Chapter 39 – When the Storm Hits
It's strange how life can change in the blink of an eye.
One moment, everything is calm, predictable, easy.
And then—out of nowhere—everything turns upside down.
—
It was a regular Tuesday. Aarav had left for work early, and Mehar had spent the morning catching up on some emails. The apartment was quiet, peaceful. She was just finishing up her breakfast when her phone buzzed on the kitchen counter.
She glanced at the screen.
It was a message from Aarav.
"Something's come up. Can you come meet me?"
She frowned. That wasn't like him. Aarav was the kind of person who didn't get distracted from his work. And he never asked her to meet him in the middle of the day.
She quickly typed a reply: "Of course. What's going on?"
His response came quickly: "I'll explain when you get here. Just… please come."
Mehar felt a knot form in her stomach. There was something in the tone of his message that felt off—urgent, almost panicked.
Without wasting any time, she grabbed her bag and headed out.
—
She took the train across the city, her thoughts racing the entire way. Her mind conjured up a thousand scenarios, none of them making sense. What could have happened? Why did he sound so… uncertain?
When she arrived at the building, she immediately went up to Aarav's office.
As she stepped into the lobby, the receptionist gave her a strange look. "Are you here for Mr. Mehta?" she asked, her voice low.
"Yes," Mehar replied, her heart pounding. "Is everything alright? He asked me to meet him."
The receptionist hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "There's been an emergency. Mr. Mehta was in an accident."
Everything inside Mehar froze. Her breath caught in her throat. She couldn't process the words.
Accident.
Her mind went blank. "What happened? Is he okay?"
The receptionist didn't seem to know much, just that Aarav had been taken to the hospital. Mehar didn't even wait for the woman to finish speaking. She turned and rushed out of the lobby, the cold wind of the city slapping her face as she ran to the nearest cab.
—
The hospital felt like a blur. The sterile smell of antiseptic, the soft hum of the machines, the quiet chatter of nurses—it all seemed so far away, so distant. All that mattered was finding Aarav.
Her heart was pounding in her chest, her hands trembling as she walked into the emergency room. She approached the nurse's station, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I'm looking for Aarav Mehta," she said, trying to steady her breath. "He was brought in for an accident."
The nurse glanced at her, and after a moment, nodded. "Room 303," she said, pointing down the hall.
Mehar didn't need any more instructions. She turned and headed straight for the room.
—
When she opened the door to room 303, the sight of Aarav lying on the bed, hooked up to several machines, took the breath right out of her.
His face was pale, his eyes closed, his body still. But the steady beep of the heart monitor was the only reassurance that he was alive.
"Aarav…" Mehar whispered, her voice breaking as she stepped closer. "What happened?"
The door behind her opened, and she turned to see a doctor enter. The doctor gave her a sympathetic look before speaking.
"He was in a car accident," the doctor explained gently. "He's stable now, but he hit his head pretty badly. We're keeping him under observation for the next 24 hours."
Mehar's hands clutched the side of the bed, her knuckles white. "Can I… can I talk to him?"
The doctor nodded. "For now, you can sit with him. He's not conscious yet, but he can hear you."
—
For the next few hours, Mehar stayed by Aarav's side. She held his hand, whispering to him, telling him that everything would be okay, even when she wasn't sure if she believed it herself.
Her mind raced, thinking of everything they had shared, everything they hadn't said. And in that moment, all she could think was how much she needed him to wake up.
She couldn't lose him. Not now.
—
It wasn't until the evening that Aarav finally stirred. His eyelids fluttered, and then he slowly opened his eyes, blinking as though trying to adjust to the light.
"Aarav…" Mehar breathed, her voice thick with emotion.
He looked up at her, his eyes confused at first. Then recognition seemed to wash over him. "Mehar?" he croaked, his voice weak.
She leaned in, brushing the hair away from his forehead. "It's me," she whispered, her tears threatening to spill. "You're okay. You're going to be okay."
He tried to smile, but it was faint. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I didn't want you to worry."
"I always worry," Mehar replied softly, taking his hand. "That's what I do. But you… you're everything to me. You can't leave me like this."
—
The hours stretched on, but with each passing moment, Mehar felt a weight lift off her chest. Aarav was awake. He was okay. It wasn't easy, and it wasn't over, but he was here.
And that, for now, was enough.
—